


Let Me Entertain You

by ibreathethroughwords



Series: A Man With a Beard [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddling & Crying, Cum Play, D/s elements, Fraternization, Look Ma No Hands, M/M, Masturbating for an audience, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Power Imbalance, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibreathethroughwords/pseuds/ibreathethroughwords
Summary: Everybody wants to get their relevant genitalia into contact with Hot Kallus. Unfortunately, for one of them, Kallus is picky. Fortunately for Kallus, disciplinary action doesn't have to be unpleasant.Also, maybe hewillkiss and make up with Zeb.Maybe.Sequel toSugar, We're Goin' Down. You can read this as a stand-alone. I think I gave you enough backstory. Maybe.





	Let Me Entertain You

**Author's Note:**

> _Are you ready for some entertainment?_  
>  _Are you ready for a show?_  
>  _Gonna rock gonna roll you_  
>  _Get you dancing in the aisles_  
>  "Let Me Entertain You" -Queen
> 
> \---  
> Draven ( _shockingly!_ ) won with three separate requests. I may squeeze one more conquest in here before they make up. 

It hadn't been his fault. That's what Kallus wanted to insist, but any explanations he considered died away at the sight of General Draven. The man was beyond enraged, and sent the other guilty party - another human, younger, bigger, and far more aggressive - off to his CO for punishment. Kallus was directed to follow the general.

The dressing down he was giving himself was probably worse than anything Draven would say to him. He didn't expect anything different from a questioning about what had happened until the door to the general's office shut behind him and the sound dampening field activated. "Attention!" The man snapped as Kallus came to stand before his desk. He was half-expecting the command, and long years of Imperial service prepared him to snap to it. Draven was quiet for half a second longer after giving the command before the reprimand started.

Kallus had been expecting to be yelled at for fighting, and he was. What he had forgotten due to the mess that was his personal life was that General Draven was the head of Alliance Intelligence for a reason, and he knew everything that happened on his base. The full list of his sins was laid out for Kallus to hear, leaving Kallus angry, humiliated, and frustrated. His fists were white-knuckled at his sides, and he was the closest he'd ever come to punching a superior officer who wasn't Grand Admiral Thrawn in the face.

When the Alliance had offered him his commission he had reviewed the terms very carefully and studied their regulations. Unlike Imperial Regulations and the extremely strict Code of Conduct to which all COMPNOR Agencies held their employees, there was nothing that made fraternization off-limits. Some of the rebels were putting romance and sex off to focus on fighting the war. Others were pursuing those things while they could because they expected to die in the name of their cause. They wanted to live a little before they sacrificed their lives for their cause. In sleeping around a little, he had broken no rules of which Kallus had been made aware and so it was unfair for Draven to stand here and give him a dressing down over having had two people in as many days.

He grit his teeth.

"Are you angry?" Draven asked, stopping mid-lecture. "Something to say, captain?"

"Fraternization is not against regulations, sir," he said, exhaustion letting the words out before he could control his tongue. Spending the night on the hard floor of a snoring old man's quarters had not lent itself to a deep sleep.

The narrowed eyes nearly made him wince, but Kallus held himself fast. He was not the one in the wrong about this. Perhaps he shouldn't have punched the bastard throwing a fit because Kallus wouldn't bend over for him, but he would not let Draven dictate who Kallus could and couldn't sleep with. There were enough people in his life already trying to do that.

"Indeed," Draven replied, his tone softening very slightly in the way it did when he'd realized one of his people didn't understand his reasoning. The man could be tougher than a horny rancor mid-mating season and had the reputation of one too, but he wasn't unreasonable and he tried to be fair when it came to discipline. If someone truly didn't understand why they were in trouble, he would make sure they did. "But you've put me in a difficult situation. Lyste is still on probation and hasn't earned anybody's trust yet. He's an ex-Imperial officer who was also formerly under Thrawn's command. An officer that you happened to have framed out of convenience, when the grand admiral showed up right after Bridger was sent to extract you. You _snuck off with him on his first day here_.

"Now he's having jealousy and trust issues? Captain Orrelios is behaving oddly as well, Captain Rau has been irritable since a violent incident reported on the _Ghost_ last night, and I'm told you may have had a PTSD episode on the shooting range immediately beforehand, all of which occurred after you vanished from the mess hall with him yesterday?"

Draven was close now, right in Kallus's face. "Sit down and tell me what's going on you and them. I won't have this interfering with your ability to work or the efficiency of this base." The general bit his words off, anger plain on his face, despite the softening of his tone. He waved at the uncomfortable chair, so that Kallus knew he was in deep shit, Kallus supposed. At least he wouldn't be standing, but he hadn't been given permission to sit at-ease either. All of Draven's department called it the uncomfortable chair for a reason. He sat, resigned to a backache.

It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts, and then Kallus began. He started with the hook-up on Coruscant, leaving out the specifics of the sex. The diner was a place he had always gone, the owner a contact of his, and Lyste had been what passed as a friend in the Empire by that point. That night had been his first chance to get out of the COMPNOR complex and away from the Verity District so he could check in with his personal network of contacts on Coruscant, and his first opportunity to get laid in months. He described how the sexual encounter fit in to the remainder of his time working with Lyste before he brought up how it had factored in to his betrayal of the man: it hadn't. Kallus had simply had no other option if he'd wished to remain a Fulcrum agent.

When the former lieutenant had arrived on Yavin IV, he'd taken Lyste somewhere private to apologize for framing him. A quiet conversation had been his only intention: sparing Lyste the potential interrogation of his peers should they overhear was the reason they'd gone elsewhere, and Kallus was well within his authority to dismiss Lyste's escort (something he'd watched Draven begrudgingly agree to). The sex had been a surprise to them both. Kallus had intended to never touch the man like that again.

It had been a mistake, and when he could get Lyste to speak to him again he intended to clear the air between them and properly apologize.

Draven watched as Kallus fell silent, contemplating where to even begin with Zeb. Evidently he took too long. "What do you intend to do with Captain Orrelios?"

Kallus shook his head. "I don't know. That issue is more complicated. When he's ready to stop behaving like an overgrown child, I'll try speaking with him again. I won't be dictated to regarding with whom I choose to get off, especially not by someone who showed no interest at all until I slicked my hair back."

"You still have to be punished for your actions earlier." Draven said after a moment. Apparently his plans for Zeb were acceptable enough that he dropped the subject.

"For _self-defense_?" Kallus asked incredulously.

"You hit a higher ranking officer," Draven replied, looking rather unimpressed with his subordinate.

Kallus scoffed at him anyway. "He tried to pin me to a wall and grabbed my buttocks!"

"I know," Draven said softly. "I don't dispute that. General Dodonna will deal with him harshly for it, have no doubt: however, Alliance Intelligence is the only thing holding the rebellion together right now. If anybody thinks I'm going to allow my officers to get away with hitting officers from other departments, I'll have a harder time dealing with everybody. You've put me in a damn difficult position here, Kallus. You know better than most what's at stake."

That was true: he knew. "Yes, sir."

"You'll stand at attention until I get tired of looking at you," he said. "Beginning immediately."  
\---

It had been three hours and if Kallus hadn't been constantly blessed by excellent doctors his right leg would be throbbing. Draven had been studiously ignoring the junior officer standing at attention in his office as he did his job from his work desk, only occasionally looking up at the captain patiently waiting to rush out of there. There was something strangely arousing about being ignored by a man whose eyes were right at crotch level. It was worse that it was his ruggedly handsome superior.

Kallus did his best to ignore it. The Empire had taught him well, and he maintained attention, posture perfect, eyes forward, and tried not to think about the fact that his cock was starting to tent his trousers right at Draven's eye level. It was nothing, unwanted erections happened even to men in their age group, and he could will it away if he tried hard enough.

Except the more he tried not to think about it, the harder he got. All he could do was hope Draven wouldn't glance up and no one would need to enter the office until it had gone down.

His luck was never that good.

The general paused in the middle of his datawork to glance up and check on Kallus - he saw Draven move out of the corner of his eye - and did a double-take. Though the man didn't say anything, Kallus could well imagine the disappointment going through his mind. Another dressing down was surely coming for this: clearly the galaxy hadn't doled out enough humiliation to him for one day.

It wasn't as though Kallus didn't deserve the suffering. Hell, he knew better than anybody else exactly what he deserved: a commission with the Alliance to Restore the Republic was not it.

Kallus mental braced himself for the berating that had to be coming and was annoyed when the thought made him harder. What was this, some strange kink he didn't know he'd ever had? It was worse than when Rau had taken him apart with one order at a time yesterday, slowly unraveling him by taking away his control.

Draven seemed to be a step ahead of him. Kallus didn't expect to him thoughtfully lean back in his desk chair and give him the sort of leering once-over that Rau had. Those sharp eyes slowly worked their way up his body, taking in the tight-fitting cut of Kallus's uniform trousers - stopping to linger on the obvious bulge of his erection - before continuing higher to rest on his blushing cheeks.

"Perhaps you haven't quite learned your lesson in discipline," Draven suggested in a tone that was far more like a question than a statement. He wanted to know if Kallus needed this to go further.

"Perhaps not, sir," Kallus carefully agreed. If he was wrong, he didn't want to obviously overstep his boundaries.

Draven stood and came around the desk, pausing to lock the door. He didn't touch Kallus, and the younger officer didn't think he would. This was close enough to an abuse of his power to make a man like Draven uncomfortable. "Kallus," he said quietly, "tell me what you need from me."

What he needed from General Draven? An easy way out of dealing with Lyste and Zeb, but even Draven couldn't give him that. Kallus could take an assignment to get off Yavin IV for a while and he'd still have to deal with them upon his return. Right now he needed to relax. What could Draven give him within their working relationship and comfort zone? Maybe there was something, if he phrased it the right way. "I need to not think. I need to not have to make any relationship decisions or worry about anybody else's kriffed up jealous issues." His eyes slid sideways to meet the general's. "Tell me what to do, sir. Let me show you how obedient I can be."

They weren't quite touching but he could practically feel Draven's shiver at his words. "At-ease," he ordered, and sat on the front of his desk. Kallus relaxed, clasped his hands behind his back, and studied the other man's face. "Have you done anything like this before?" Draven asked. "Ever given up that much control?"

He had done it on a few occasions, though only once as the recipient. Rau had been an excellent instructor. "I have, sir."

Addressing him formally while Kallus was standing rock hard in front of him was definitely affecting the general. "I'm not going to touch you this time," Draven finally said after a moment spent deliberating. Kallus could only guess over what. "But I can give you what you need."

"May I touch you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You've not earned the reward," Draven responded after a moment. His fingers flexed around the edge of his desk. "Your behavior lately has been atrocious and I will continue to monitor you quite closely for a while. That said, I agree with your assessment, captain. This situation is causing you undue stress and it's affecting your performance. If we're going to hold this Alliance together, I need every one of my people at their best. I can't trust you to follow my orders and make the right calls in the field if you can't be trusted to handle your fucktoys."

Kallus bit his bottom lip and looked down, feigning humility. The scolding might have burned him a while ago, but with Draven starting to get hard, he was more turned on by it than ashamed. "Yes, general," he acknowledged, and looked up to gauge the effect of that.

Oh, that was good. Draven looked on the verge of forgetting his self-imposed no-touching rule. He straightened to his full height. "Good. Do you have a safeword?"

"'Royale,' sir." Kallus saw him mouth it as he committed it to memory.

"What are your hard limits?"

"Bondage, sounding, a larger audience than just you, unusual bodily fluids or substances, penetration of orifices not typically associated with sex by humans."

Draven raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "Soft limits?"

"I'll try anything else twice, sir."

There was silence. "If I allowed you to touch me, should you earn it - ?"

Kallus grinned at him. "I'll try anything else twice."

Draven shivered, and ordered him back to attention. Kallus obliged, eyes watching the general as his own body obeyed. Like Rau, Draven was a ginger, around the same age, but the passage of time hadn't been quite as kind to him. He was a severe man, with deep lines on his face that gave him an intimidating command presence. It made Kallus shiver as the man stalked around him. The feeling was very much like being circled by a hungry predator, and wondering when it would strike to devour you while you were utterly defenseless.

It made him wonder what this would be like with Zeb, and he whimpered.

"Take off your jacket and your shirt," Draven ordered quietly, his voice barely disturbing the silence. "Fold them properly and place them on the empty corner of my desk. The same for your blaster and holster."

Kallus obeyed quickly and quietly, and came back to attention. Draven inspected his work with a critical eye, and nodded. "Good work, Captain. You've managed this task. I think perhaps you're ready for another." He sat at his desk and motioned Kallus to the comfortable chair kept for visitors. Kallus sat down in it, wet his lips with his tongue. Tight fabric rubbed over his erection as he sat, tormenting him. There was a wet spot forming where the fabric was pressed flush to the head: Draven had him leaking already.

"Touch yourself for me, captain, but over the fabric only for now. I have some things to attend to here."

It was probably nothing that couldn't wait a while longer, but Kallus had really enjoyed the indifference with which he'd already been treated. Fifteen minutes more of it reduced him to panting and canting his hips up into his palm. Draven didn't overtly look up, but Kallus could tell when he was being watched by someone.

The man had a small smirk playing about his lips, and one didn't get that from pouring over reports and doling out assignments. "Would you like to take it out, captain?" he finally asked.

"Yes, sir," Kallus breathed, relieved by the sound of his voice as much as the suggestion.

"You may do so," he allowed, and watched as Kallus freed his erection and slid his uniform trousers down a little. "But do not touch it yet. Rest your hands on your knees."

Kallus bit back a whine as he did what Draven instructed. "You will continue to address me as 'sir.' You'll acknowledge every order I give you with, 'Yes, sir,' or, 'No, sir,' and obey them immediately. If I push you too far or you need to stop for any reason, use your word - and we _will_ discuss what happened, it doesn't get you out of a conversation - and I'll stop immediately. You may beg and make as much noise as you like, unless I order you to be silent, but you will not question my orders. Obviously, if there's an emergency, this will have to stop, and I'll call on you later to make sure you're okay.

"For every infraction, you will spend five minutes kneeling on the floor, at my feet, with your hands behind your back. Are we agreed?" Draven was watching him seriously. That was easy enough to remember, and easy enough to abide by.

And _kriffing hell_ , but he was really hard now. "Yes, sir," he consented.

"And what's your safeword?"

"'Royale,' sir."

Draven gave him a satisfied smiled. "Very good, captain. Show me how you like to pleasure yourself."

He was more than happy to obey that order. "Yes, sir," Kallus replied, and slid his pants down a little lower so he could get to his balls. The general seemed to be finished pretending he was paying any sort of attention to doing his job: now that Kallus was putting on a show Draven only had eyes for him. It had the strange effect of making him want to do extra well, to keep those eyes focused solely on him. When this was over and he walked out of this room, he wanted Draven to think of him every time he glanced at this chair.

More than that, he realized as he rolled his balls in one hand, giving them a squeeze and a gentle tug, he wanted to be allowed to touch. Draven had said it was a privilege he hadn't earned, but the general hadn't said it was off the table. Kallus's other hand explored his torso, not yet venturing to his cock. If touching his commanding officer was a possibility, he'd give it his all. How often did an opportunity like that come up?

Of their own accord, his hips bucked up when his wandering hand strayed too close to his cock. _Not yet_ , he told himself, glancing at Draven's face through lidded eyes. The man wasn't quite hooked on his movements yet. There were plenty of other ways to pleasure himself: such as a large expanse of sensitive skin he could make good use of in the meantime.

Kallus pulled his hand away from his balls to join the other in roaming and teasing over his torso. His neck, shoulders, and collarbone were sensitive, and he teased himself with light touches and his short nails, working himself up until Draven could easily see how much precum he was leaking before moving lower, alternating between rubbing, pinching, and pulling at his nipples. They were already hard and sensitive, and he couldn't hold back his moans or gasps of pleasure.

By the time he got to his hips, General Draven had his hands clenched in tight fists on the surface of the desk, and Kallus left scratch marks on the skin there, just as he had on his abs moments earlier. He bucked his hips up, as though begging for mercy from a lover he didn't have, and watched through lowered lashes as Draven struggled for control across the room. The man nearly lost it when Kallus slid one finger through the precum gathering at the tip of his dick and whimpered quietly.

He used the finger to draw lazy patterns of slick over his cock, teasing Draven as much as himself. Every little bit that had dripped off of it into a small puddle on his stomach was gathered up and relocated to his cock. When he noticed those fists trembling on the desk and Draven's jaw tighten, Kallus brought his fingertip to his lips instead, and licked the precum off of it.

A frustrated groan came from the across the room, so he finally looked up at Draven and smirked. The general might be giving him orders, might be ensuring Kallus wasn't thinking about anything else but him, but they both knew that in these type of situations, the one giving the orders was never the one really in control. Their eyes met.

Kallus sucked the entire finger into his mouth.

Draven moaned. It was barely audible, even though Kallus was only right across from him. He withdrew his finger, brought it back to the tip of his dick to gather more precum, and painted his lips with it so he could leisurely lap it up. Draven was panting now.

Kallus took pity on him, and slid his palm over the dripping slit to slick it, and properly got to work. At first he was gentle with his strokes, alternating between his palm and just his fingers, waiting until the general was into what he was doing before switching from teasing the man to working for his own release. As he got closer to his orgasm, he brought his other hand into play, rolling his balls again, giving them a tug here and there to hold it off, until he was on the edge, and -

"Stop," Draven commanded.

Kallus swore under his breath, hands frozen in place, but he stopped and looked up. Draven raised an eyebrow, prompting him for something and Kallus searched his pleasure-addled brain for what it could be.

"Kneel," Draven ordered, pointing to his feet. "You're to acknowledge my orders, captain."

Oh yes. That. "Yes, sir," he responded meekly, and moved to obey with shaking limbs. Kallus lowered himself to the floor behind the desk at Draven's feet, eyes lowered submissively, penitently - another show for his superior officer - and rested his hands behind his back, as though they were in binders.

The older man's cock twitched in his trousers. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, captain?"

"My apologies, sir." Kallus studied the shape of Draven's cock through the other's uniform pants. It looked to be in proportion to the size of the general. The two of them were almost the same height and size, though Kallus was in better shape thanks to his age and his career choices. He wondered what the general's cock would feel like against his tongue, what the texture of it was like, the color, the weight of it. Even the thought of it made him wet his lips, though the chances of Draven letting Kallus blow him behind his office desk were slim to none.

"Look at you," Draven murmured. "Sitting there and staring at my cock. You've not behaved well enough to have it, captain."

As though he were ashamed - and perhaps he was a little ashamed - Kallus ducked his head further. He'd been trying so hard to put on a worthy show. "I know, sir."

"Did you think a pretty show was going to undo the trouble you caused me by thinking with your balls? I'll admit, it was a very pretty show. You certainly know how to play to an audience, captain. Who would ever have thought you would enjoy being watched that much?" Draven leaned down to murmur in his ear. "You're going to look so beautiful when you finally cum for me."

Kallus shivered. He badly wished Draven would touch him, pull his hair, drag him onto his cock, and fuck his throat. It was torture to only feel the man's breath over his skin, his words creeping into his mind - both going right to his cock and balls. When Kallus left here he suspected he was still going to need a good fuck, and whoever offered first, that was going to be the person. Something about the way Draven spoke highlighted exactly how empty his ass felt right now.

He wanted to drag the man's zipper down with his teeth.

Draven pulled away and freed his cock for him.

Biting at his bottom lip to keep from trying to take it into his mouth, Kallus looked at it longingly. He'd been right about the size of it, slightly above average in width and length. The trimmed hair at the base was rust-colored with flecks of gray like the general's hair, and it was purple and fully engorged, leaking a little already. Kallus badly wanted it in his mouth. There was something very appealing about the idea of sucking off a superior officer at his desk, especially one so intimidating. Taking General Draven apart with his tongue sounded challenging, appealing, and he was already right here.

The other man stroked a hand up and down the length and Kallus's eyes followed greedily. He didn't bother disguising the hunger on his face, though he maintained the submissive bearing for the sake of the game they were playing. Draven's eyes were hot on his face as he watched Kallus watch him slide his thumb over the tip, down the frenulum, before he gave his cock a good squeeze and a tug. It was something he never knew he wanted, but now that he did, Kallus was willing to do quite a lot to get it.

He whined, softly.

"I said you've not earned the reward of touching me," Draven reminded him somewhat coldly. "You misbehaved. You can't possibly imagine I'll reward you with touch now."

"It's not my hands I want to use, sir," Kallus responded quietly, humbly. "Let me apologize for my infractions a different a way. Use my mouth, general. Fuck my mouth and throat as hard as you please."

Draven drew in a sharp breath, and his hand stilled on his cock. "Kallus, are you certain?"

He lifted his head to look up at the general with a cocky smile. "Would you prefer I phrased it more clearly?"

"Please."

"I want you to fuck my throat, sir. I can handle it as long as you don't hold me in place. I want you to deny me my release until you cum down the back of my throat. If it gets to be too much or I need air, I'll pull away for a moment, but I want my voice to be hoarse for the rest of the day."

He lowered his eyes again. "Please use me, general."

Draven wanted it at least as much as Kallus did. His swore under his breath. "You'll touch yourself the entire time. Get any cum on my floor you'll be licking it up afterward. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," he said, raising his eyes again, so Draven could see he was sincere.

"Go on then," Draven encouraged, pressing his hips forward.

Kallus moaned softly and reverently pressed his lips to the tip of it, dipped his tongue into the slit to taste him, and relaxed his jaw and throat. Breathing through his nose he worked Draven deeper into his mouth, swallowed around him to take him into his throat more easily, and relaxed a little more once the man was properly, fully seated in his mouth. Kallus glanced up to meet his eyes and found the general looking more relaxed than he had in a while.

Pleased with himself, he wrapped a hand around his own cock, and got to work.

Draven was easy to satisfy like this, and Kallus was eager for it, dying now to bring the general to his release. He moaned around the cock in his mouth often, frequently looking up as he chased release for both of them. Once he figured out what worked for the older man he did it as frequently as possible, not varying much except to tease if he thought Draven needed it. His tongue rubbed at the underside of Draven's cock and his left hand gathered up some of his own precum to make it easier to slide a fingertip into himself. Kallus was close, but he had asked not to cum first.

It wasn't happening fast enough. He needed to push the general.

Kallus pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, fucking his mouth faster on Draven's cock. Every time the hard length of flesh slid home he moaned or whimpered to let the general know how much he enjoyed it, how grateful he was to be used like this, to be taken and enjoyed where no one else but the general could see him like this. Another thrust, and another, and finally Draven's hands clenched down on the arm of his chair and he came with a sharp cry, cum spilling down the back of Kallus's throat as the lower ranking officer swallowed all of it.

He moaned again, enjoying the feeling of power it gave him - how many people could say they'd made the head of Alliance Intelligence cum down their throats at his own desk? - spurred his hands on faster, focused on his own orgasm now that Draven was riding out his own with little encouragement from Kallus.

The general's cock slid out of his mouth with an obscene pop, and those delicious lips were back by his ears again, whispering sinful things to him once more. "You're such a naughty man," he praised with a voice that shook. "You took my cock so damn well. I bet you could take another one right after this, couldn't you? Look at you, fingering your hole so desperately, greedy to have a cock on each end of you."

Kallus moaned - it came out raw and hoarse - and Draven shivered. "Kriff, captain, have you any idea how fucked out you sound right now? I need you to cum for me, I need to see how good you look with it splattered all across your chest."

"Order me, sir," he croaked out, fucking himself harder on his finger.

Draven swore softly in his ear and did as he was told. "Cum for me, Captain Kallus. That's an order."

He obeyed it immediately, felt the release empty out of his balls through his cock. The warm strands of it coated his chest as Kallus practically sobbed through his release. It was one of the most powerful orgasms he'd had in a while, a release of tension that came with no strings attached, no one threatening him, and no one who would want to get involved in whatever was going on with Zeb. It took a good deal weight off his shoulders, and if it reduced him to tears for awhile after, Draven wouldn't say anything.

Draven tucked himself away, helped the younger man clean up and get dressed again and let Kallus rest his head on his thigh afterward for a long while, carding a hand through his hair while Kallus gathered himself. There was no pressure to talk at all, only the general's reassuring presence and the comfort he offered.

Eventually, Kallus felt ready to face the galaxy again, and pulled himself back to his feet. Draven stood with him, and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "I expect nothing from you," he reminded Kallus, "and you know not to mention this."

Kallus nodded. "I know. I appreciate it - the sex, and you pulling my head back out of my ass. I'm sorry for causing you trouble."

Draven gave him the barest hint of a smile. "You're not the only Intelligence Officer who's had to come and kneel on my floor for whatever reason, and you won't be the last. This job is rough on us all, and you each require a different sort of handling. I'm here if you need me. For now, I think you ought to go sort out your sorry excuse for a personal life."

"Yes, sir," Kallus said, trying to ignore the dread twisting in his stomach.

"You're dismissed," Draven said, and saw him out.

This section of the base was practically deserted at this time of the evening. Kallus didn’t run into anybody he knew until he was on his way back to the _Ghost_. Not wanting to get caught up in conversation, he exchanged polite greetings and continued on his way. Right now everybody else was probably eating dinner so he figured he had a fair chance at being able to sneak into his bunk - his own bunk! - to obtain clothing and personal items and sneak back out before he had to risk being murdered by an angry lasat.

Getting across the landing pad was easy. Lyste's guard was nowhere to be seen, so he probably didn't have to worry about running into him. Kallus was quiet coming up the ramp, and very careful moving through the _Ghost_ 's corridors. If he had to, he would simply come back in the morning when Zeb reported for a duty shift working with some younger recruits on hand-to-hand. So far, the entire ship was quiet. Crossing his fingers, he opened the door to their bunk.

Empty. He relaxed.

Kallus was fast, grabbing only what he needed for the next day or so. Rex wouldn't let him stay forever, but there were plenty of alcoves he could sleep in that few people had discovered. A cloak would work as a pillow, and he only needed to change his uniform. That would do for clothing, he thought -

\- and that was the door, opening behind him. His shoulders slumped momentarily as he recognized the smell. There was no hint of alcohol this time, a small blessing. Kallus didn't bother turning around, merely stood staring at their bunks where he had a clean uniform laid out. He rested his hands against the mat away from his blaster, not wanting to provoke Zeb.

"If you're going to get violent again," he said wearily, hoarsely, not wanting to fight, but knowing Zeb had likely caught the scent of sex already, "can we skip it? You can go straight to accusing me of being a whore despite knowing no one here even has credits with which to pay for my mediocre skills, and I can get on with figuring out which obscure corner of the base I'm going hurt my back sleeping in tonight trying to give you space."

The door to their bunk slid shut, and he hoped Zeb had gone.

Kallus never had that kind of luck. Zeb was keying in the lock code, and had yet to say anything.

A soft sigh escaped Kallus. Slowly, he turned to look at the lasat who was supposed to be his best friend, and let his feelings show on his face. That Zeb blanched was a decidedly good sign. Zeb stopped in front of him, rested a big paw on the human's side, and butted their foreheads together. "I'm sorry. I am so, so, so sorry, Kal. I've been the biggest asshole in the galaxy."

What Kallus wanted to do was lean into the touch, rest his head against Zeb's shoulder and forget any of this shit had ever happened, but he was not a forgetful man. That didn't mean he couldn't do the other two things. He fisted his hands in Zeb's jumpsuit and buried his face in the soft fur of his neck, breathing him in, and shaking with the suppressed urge to cry. The lasat wrapped both arms around him and held him close.

Kallus had expected to yell at Zeb when the time came for a private confrontation. Yelling, fighting, perhaps fisticuffs, maybe even a few unkind words in another language wouldn't have been amiss, but dissolving into frustrated tears despite his best efforts to not cry, and desperately clinging to the source of his stress had not been on his list of expectations for how this would proceed. He let Zeb guide him to sit next to him on Zeb's bunk, but Kallus really didn't want to give up the physical contact he had. With a huff that might have been amusement or frustration - and really, what right did Zeb have to be frustrated at this point? - Zeb carefully removed the uniform jacket and Kallus's blaster and holster, and tugged him to lie back against him on the bed.

They were quiet for a while once Kallus had exhausted himself of tears. When he was sure he wasn't going to cry again or hit Zeb, he tilted his head up to look at the lasat. "Have you had your head removed from your ass yet?" he asked quietly. Zeb winced again, partially, Kallus suspected, because he must look rather pathetic. He was pale and freckled: never a good combination with tears. Right now his eyes, nose, and the area around them were probably redder than a spice addict's and swollen on top of it.

"About ten different people pulled me away for a talking to yesterday and today," he admitted, looking suitably ashamed of himself. "It's hard to explain what came over me. Medical confirmed it was some kind of a biological mating reaction based on levels of whatever hormones being different from my norm. They gave me a shot to level it out, and I'm thinking much more clearly now."

That was interesting. A lasat having a mating reaction to a human? "Medical says I turned you on?" He stared at Zeb.

Zeb's cheek fur puffed up a little and his visible ear flattened. "It's not that simple. Ezra and I took the _Gauntlet_ out this afternoon so I could call an elder I know of and she said something similar. My species, when we find someone who's supposed to be our match for life, the Ashla points it out with that reaction."

Match. For life. Kallus raised an eyebrow. "The Ashla told you that you're supposed to marry me by making you overly jealous and irrational?"

"And insatiably horny, but yeah." Kallus raised his other eyebrow, looking at the other male incredulously. Zeb was looking anywhere but at him. "That's the gist of it, anyway. Some annoying mystical and biological thing that tends to hit after age fifty for lasat males."

Kallus sighed. It sounded like mystical bantha shit, but he'd seen a lot of weird things in his life. He needed to process this, and to do that he needed space and privacy. "I'm going to shower," he decided after a moment. "You're going to go to Rex's quarters and get my things - I'll warn him - and then you're going to come back here and we'll either try talking again or I'll use you as a big furry pillow and go to sleep."

Zeb thought about it for a minute. "As long as you don't smell like Draven anymore when I come back."

"That's fair," Kallus said, and pulled himself off the bunk and to his feet. They had a long way to go, but at least things were more stable between them. For now, that would have to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I was beyond offended when I put the song I wanted lyrics for into Google and _it had the audacity to pull up Robbie Williams instead of Queen **as the default**_. What the fucking fresh hell is this shit? Shame on you, Google!
> 
>  
> 
> If I don't do another round of sex before Kallus and Zeb make up, remember that you can leave me pairing prompts at [my tumblr](http://thebestblogeveratalltime.tumblr.com) and [my writing tumblr](http://ibreathethroughwords.tumblr.com). Or in comments on fic. Whatever. *shrug* I take G-rated prompts too, they just don't tend to stay that way.


End file.
